BitterSweetLife

I’m ready for the day when everything matches up.

Words and chords, thoughts and prayers, intent and expression—all perfectly aligned.

A simple attempt to sing an unfamiliar song reveals our mismatched ends and means, our rough-edged methods of naming. We sing off-key, guess at the next note and miss, lapse into silence as the music plays, struggle to match heart to harmony.

And later, when we know the song, the enchantment of repetition proves an equal challenge. We face the peril of singing by rote; our expertise lulls us asleep; we hum in a cloud of recollected feeling.

Just the same, we persevere, trying with imperfect tools to mirror—recognize, acknowledge—God’s perfection.

Words fight with tunes, tunes with heart, and all with our comprehension. Can we apprehend the little signposts? Can the sung and spoken symbols reach our hearts?

They can, but only through a fight.

Consonance, when it arrives, will have a billion eager fans.